I really have to get something off my chest, figuratively this time! Recently, I have had an influx of girlfriends that have opted for breast augmentation. I am completely supportive of their decision and realize that it is something that is necessary for them and frankly, I could care less what they chose to do with their bodies. And, I totally love seeing them transform through the process getting to that point where they feel a renewed sexiness. It's amazing how such a simple change in size or shape can unveil a vixen of confidence.
But, this is where I fall flat on my face; I can't help feeling jealous. Your new equipment gave you sultry confidence, while I wrap the towel around me before I exit the shower. You go braless in daring shirts, while I am constantly checking to see if my implant wrinkles are exposed. You are empowered between the sheets, while I am hiding under a sweatshirt. You desire the feeling of your man's hand up your shirt, while I have no feeling at all. You love the new role breasts play during sex, while mine are left untouched. With a smile and my tongue pressed between my teeth I will engage you, but girl it's painful.
Salt in my wounds when anyone compares their breast enhancement surgery to what I went through. Be it the recovery, the event, the scars, the surgery, the emotional distress, IT'S ALL DIFFERENT! Let me be clear,
YES, I HAVE IMPLANTS, NO I DID NOT HAVE A BOOB JOB.
If ya wanna see the things bolted to my chest that barely resemble a tit, I'll show ya. You might get confused because where you have a nice little fleshy pink nipple I have a red scar, but I assure you they are my hot, new boobs just like yours right?